


Bert for the Win

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story told at a bar</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bert for the Win

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I couldn't stick to my plan to stop writing fanfiction till another writing project was done. As they say, this just happened. See what you think of Bert bragging to his friend.  
> I lack discipline, but covet your reviews.  
> I do not own any of these characters. They just won't leave me alone.

So, let me tell you, Reggie, it ain’t really just driving the cab anymore. There’s other things Cec and I do for Miss Fisher. Yair, now, she’s not what you think, not at all. I didn’t think it’d work out, at first, but she sends us to do all kinds of things for her. It’s like research, you know? No, I mean it. Sometimes it just takes a man to do the kind of research she needs. Like one time, I had to go get a room at a boardinghouse, to check up on this crooked hypnotist. And I saved two little girls, too. I did! Cec and me, we do that kind of thing a lot for Miss Fisher.  
So the other night I’m at that club that Charlie runs, and I hear this bloke running off his mouth. At first, I tried to ignore it, but he was too much of a loudmouth, so I started to listen. He was going on and on about this woman who’d caused him all kinds of trouble: seems his girlfriend hired her to see if he was cheating or not. Of course, he was. And the more he talked about this woman, the more I thought he was talking about Miss Fisher. She was a toff, and she was a lady detective, and she lived in St. Kilda.  
Well, how many lady detectives do you think there are, anyway? I was sure it had to be her. I started to listen, without anybody knowing I was doing it. That’s how you have to do if you’re going to work on cases for Miss Fisher. So this punter starts bragging about how he’s going to go to her house and break in, and scare her to pay her back for what she did.  
Now, between you, me and the gatepost, Miss Fisher don’t scare all that easy. But I couldn’t stand by and let this bodger go cause her any trouble. 

I paid up, and went straight to go get Cec. Alice wasn’t crazy about it, but she could see that we had to protect Miss Fisher. So Cec and me headed over to Miss Fisher’s house.  
We went up to the back door to try to get the butler’s attention. His name is Mr. Butler, and he’s a good man, to be sure. Almost _too_ good, this time: he heard me and Cec and thought we were trying to break in! Almost coshed Cec before we could tell him it was us. Anyway, he let us in, and I told him about the man I heard threatening Miss Fisher. 

He tried to talk me into calling the jacks! Well, I was ahead of him there: while Cec was getting around, I did try to call the police—yair, I know, Reg, and the funny thing is, remember that Inspector who gave us so much grief? It turns out that he’s the one that Miss Fisher, er, the one that she, er…well, they work together. He ain’t my cup o’ tea, never will be! But he is fair, and that’s more than you can say for most of them coppers. So I called him, and what do you expect? They said he isn’t available! Ain’t that just lovely? The one time I give in and call on him, and he’s off gallivanting around! So I told that to Mr. Butler.  
Well, Mr. Butler, he thought I should call them again, even if Robinson weren’t there. But they’d probably send out some wet-behind-the-ears constable, and even if they sent the one we know, I could do as good as him, and I ain’t a newlywed, neither.  
So we were talking about cops or no cops when we hear a rustling noise outside in the back garden. Real quiet like, we turned out the lights in the kitchen and went to the back door.  
This crazy idiot had a grappling hook. A grappling hook! He threw it right up to the balcony of Miss Fisher’s bedroom. I don’t know what he thought he was going to do, or how he was going to climb it, because he was drunk as a lord. Before he could even pull the rope taut, me and Cec were on him. Mr. Butler joined in, and before you know it, our burglar was rolling on the ground, bawling like a baby. 

Cec and Mr. Butler pulled him up and started dragging him toward the cab to deliver him to the police, but I stopped and pointed toward the grappling hook. There was no way I was going to leave it till daylight, when Miss Fisher might see it; but there was also no way I could get it down without climbing up to loosen it from where it caught on the balcony.  
So I says to Cec and Mr. Butler, “You two go ahead. I’ll get this down in a jif.” Something seemed to worry Mr. Butler about me climbing up there, but he could see that he needed to help Cec get the crim to the police station, so he let it go. 

I went to the garage and got a ladder, and I climbed up to the balcony. The weather was warm and the windows were open, so I was as quiet as a mouse. The one thing I didn’t want to do was to wake Miss Fisher. I loosened the hook and started to head back down; but you know how things happen when you’re trying to be really careful? I stepped on the rope, and it yanked the grappling hook out of my hand. It made a tiny _clunk_! I froze against the building, just hoping Miss Fisher slept soundly.  
Miss Fisher may have slept soundly, but...then I found out what was bothering Mr. Butler. You know, I’ve told you; Miss Fisher, she’s a little different than some of those toff ladies, right? So she—well, she wasn’t alone. I could hear somebody moving inside the room, and then she said real soft-like, “Mmm…Darling, what is it?”  
I froze, and tried to crouch down into a corner of the balcony. I couldn’t hear the answer to Miss Fisher’s question; but apparently Miss Fisher had decided there was nothing to fear, and I could hear that throaty laugh of hers. What’s more, even if I couldn’t hear the person she was speaking to, I could hear what _she_ answered perfectly well.  
All I could think was, Bloody hell, I’ve got to get out of here. This time, I didn’t make a sound. I let myself over the edge of the balcony as fast as I could—but not fast enough. No, she didn’t catch me. More like I caught her—that is, I could hear that she was, er... you know. Moaning, like. And pretty happy about it, too! 

So the next morning, I get up myself up bright and early, and head on over to City South. There’s that kid Collins at the front desk, looking as confused as ever.  
“I’m here to see the Inspector,” I says. So Collins says, “Just a minute, I’ll go get him,” but just at that moment, Robinson comes walking out of his office asking Collins for a file. When he sees me, he stops in his tracks and says, “Bert?”  
So I say, all polite-like, “Inspector,” and nod my head at him. Then I say, “I hear you’ve got a new addition to the cells.”  
The Inspector looks me over. He’s kind of suspicious. “And…what would you know about that?” he says.  
“I know a lot,” I told him.  
Robinson said, “Perhaps you’d better come back to my office, then.” He led the way on back to his office.  
The Inspector sat down behind his desk and waved toward the chair across from him. “What’s this all about?” he says.  
I just leaned against the back of the chair. I told Robinson the whole story: how I had heard this bloke bragging about what he was going to do, and how Cec and me had come to Miss Fisher’s residence to protect her, and how we done just that, with Mr. Butler’s help, of course. And both of us would give a statement if necessary. See, I know all about that police paperwork now.  
Robinson looked at me real funny. “You caught him? At Miss Fisher’s house?”  
“And I climbed up and got the grappling hook off her balcony, too,” I said.  
The Inspector looks like he's thinking this over, then he asks, “At…about what time would you say this happened?”  
So get this. I looked him right dead in the eye, and I said, “I’d say it was probably 1:30. Just about the time Miss Fisher told you to stop detecting and come back to bed.”  
Robinson didn’t break eye contact at first, I got to give him that. Then he looked away and sighed, and said, “I see. Hm.” He tapped his finger on the desk, then looked back at me and shrugged. “Well done, then.”  
So then, get a load of this, Reg. I says to him, “Thanks. And from what I could hear, same to you.” And I turned on my heel and walked right out of the office. Oh, it was a grand exit, to be sure! My only regret is that I had to walk away before I could see the look on the Inspector’s face.


End file.
